Wicked Bite (Night Rebel #2)(77)

Dagon wouldn’t be so furious unless Ian was winning.

“Don’t stop!” I repeated before my vision and mouth flooded with blood again. I felt like I was drowning, but that was impossible. Vampires didn’t need to breathe to survive.

Then I felt the magic, foul and putrid, pulsing through the pain. Dagon and Ereshki had stopped using physical force on my circle. Now, they were casting the darkest of magic at it. The circle reacted with all the defensive violence in it. Soon, even the relentless hammering of Ian’s fist wasn’t enough to counter it. I wasn’t being drowned; I was being plunged toward death.

“Veritas!”

Ian’s voice cut through the currents pulling me under. I tried to lift my head, but it was too heavy.

“Answer me, Veritas!”

The sharpness in Ian’s voice was nothing compared to the detonations going off inside me. Dagon and Ereshki’s magic was too strong. My body was giving out. I didn’t know how much damage Ian had done to the circle, or if it would be enough, and I couldn’t open my eyes to look. I didn’t have the strength.

“If you don’t answer, I will stop beating this circle and let them kill me!”

Fucking hell. Was it really too much to ask that he not get killed for me again? I, at least, had a chance at coming back from the dead once I died. Ian didn’t, but was he letting that stop him from making his threat? Of course not.

“Veritas, I mean it!”

I still couldn’t speak or see, but I marshaled all my energy in order to move one finger. It was my middle one, and I stuck it straight up in the direction his voice came from.

A harsh laugh preceded his reply. “Good. I’m almost through this wall, but it’s taken quite a lot from me. When it goes down, I need you to be ready because Dagon will attack you. Do you hear? You can’t stay slumped in a pool of your own blood.”

Did he think I was lying in my own pureed guts because it was a hot new fashion trend? If I could’ve flipped him off with both hands, I would have.

“Whatever you did to terrify Tenoch all those years ago, I need you to do it again,” Ian went on, shocking me. “That part of you is buried too deep to be beaten down by this spell. It’s also been waiting a long time to come out. Now, you need to let it.”

Tenoch’s face flashed in my mind. Not one of the memories I cherished; the one I’d tried the hardest to forget. The horror on his face when he stared at the bodies lying beside pools of darkness around me, and worse, the revulsion in his eyes when he looked up from them to stare at me . . .

“No,” I croaked, so appalled I managed to speak.

“Yes,” he snapped. “I won’t let Tenoch’s fear cost you your life. And do you think Dagon will stop at you? Do you want me to break down these walls only to get slaughtered by that sod?”

With each word, he continued hammering at the circle. I felt it in every flash of relief in my broken body, but now I was worried, too. How much had it taken from Ian for him to keep beating on that magic-imbued barrier? Was it everything he had?

I reached down inside myself and felt around until I brushed the most forbidden aspects of my other half. Yes, that power was still there, but would it be enough? Worse, would it be too much? Ian was right; that part had been held back for so long that I had no idea what it would do if I let it out again.

“Can’t . . . control it,” I managed to say.

“You don’t need to.” A shout that coincided with a boom! that shook me to my core. “I trust you, all of you. You won’t hurt me, and nothing you can do will ever horrify me. Let yourself free, Veritas! Every bit of you!”

I could feel the cracks on the walls widening. Soon, they would come down, and Dagon would come at us with everything he had. He didn’t even need to get close to Ian to kill him, either. A shot through the heart with a silver bullet would be enough, and Ian had left automatic weapons filled with silver rounds at the bottom of his circle.

Ereshki might be magically and physically depleted from her part in Dagon’s spells, but she could also take Ian out with one of those guns, and if Ian was in as bad shape as he implied, he might not be able to stop her, either.

But would summoning the darkest part of my power be worse? Tenoch had believed that so much, he’d created not one, but two assassins to take me out, if I brought it forth again. My other nature hadn’t hurt Ian before, but if I let the worst of it out, would it stop at killing Dagon? Or would it kill Ian, too?

It didn’t kill Tenoch.

The thought seared me, bringing another blast of hope. When I’d let the darkest aspect of my power free so long ago, I’d only killed the vampires who’d kidnapped me. Not the sire I loved. At the height of everything Tenoch had feared until his dying day, I’d still protected him.

Did that mean Ian was right? Was my power only as evil as I allowed it to be?

“Veritas, now!” Ian shouted.

How could I pick between over four thousand years of Tenoch’s conditioning versus Ian’s claim that he was wrong this instant? But not picking was its own choice. The walls were crashing down. Who should I believe? The sire who’d known me most of my life? Or the man I loved, yet had only known months?

Dammit, why should it be a choice between the two of them? Didn’t I have control over me, even the most frightening parts of me? Even demons had free will! Why should I be any different?